


It

by L_autore_Passionale



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Dehumanization, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Evil Slade Wilson, Gen, His family will make sure he gets one, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Muzzles, POV Dick Grayson, Restraints, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_autore_Passionale/pseuds/L_autore_Passionale
Summary: It had lost track of how long It had been with Master. However many days, weeks, months, years it had been, it was long enough for Master to show It the error of Its ways and mold It into the perfect toy.Its first mistake, Master had told It back in the beginning, was believing It was a person. (It wasn’t, and It never would be.)The second mistake was disobeying Master. (The man had complete control over It. Trying to fight that control only meant the master would reassert his dominance over It.)The third mistake was thinking It didn’t love Its life or the pain Master gifted It with. (Of course It welcomed the pain. Of course It wanted the agony. After all, what was Its purpose, but to ease Its master’s anger and irritation?)
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	1. The Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty...dark fic. It deals with a character who has been severely tortured and dehumanized. If there is anything you think needs to be added as a trigger warning that isn’t covered in the tags, please let me know.
> 
> “Master” is Slade. “It” is Dick. There is a deliberate usage of capitalization for It/it that differs for how Slade refers to Dick and how Dick thinks of himself. That has been a small way he has fought back against Slade’s conditioning, thinking of “It” as his proper name.

It stared out of the barred window high on the wall opposite where It sat, enjoying the limited view of the sky it offered. The window was small—too small for It to crawl out of, even had it not been barred. Not that It would try, of course. Not anymore. It had learned Its lesson. 

The door creaked open, and It looked over, eyes crinkling when It saw Its master. It would smile, but the muzzle was bound too tightly around Its face to allow that movement. Even so, Master knew. Master could tell and smiled back. 

“Good morning, toy.”

It remained still, waiting for directions. Master stalked forward, keys jangling from his hands, and Its heart sped up. That meant It would be able to move around today. Perhaps It would even be able to eat a real meal, instead of having the tube down Its nose. 

Perhaps that meant The Room, too! Master always had such interesting tools there for his work on It. Excitement nearly made It shiver, but It clamped down on the reaction. It had gotten much better at that in the time It had been with Its master.

“Stand.”

It pushed to Its feet, ignoring the way the chain around Its throat tightened. Master titled Its chin up to better access the lock. 

“I have a surprise for it today. Something new. It has been so good lately.”

Its eyes crinkled again, and Master patted Its cheek. “I know it is excited. I have some work to do first, however. Would it like to play in the meantime?”

Its breath caught, and Master smiled again. “I thought so.” 

He bent and unlocked the chains around Its wrists and ankles. The lead was attached to the ring on Its muzzle, and Master tugged. “Come.”

It padded gently behind Master out of the cell and down the hallway. “Play” could mean many things. None of them were good, but It loved them anyways. Master had taught It to.

Master’s destination was his office, and It nearly twitched in anticipation as he opened the small space in the floor beneath his chair. 

“In,” he ordered, and It climbed inside obediently and curled into a tiny ball.

The space was much too small for It. Uncomfortably so. But Its master had told It to, and It found Its pleasure by obeying him.

“I don’t want to hear a noise for at least three hours. If I do, there will be no food and no surprise. Is that understood?”

It tilted Its head to see him better and blinked slowly. Master smiled again. The lid to Its tiny hidey-hole closed, taking with it all light and noise from beyond the space. But It knew Master would be able to hear whatever noise It made. It had tested that many, many, many days ago, and the punishment had been severe.

It counted slowly. At 2,347, the first cramp hit, attacking Its leg. Its breathing, already shallow from the tight space, slowed as It welcomed and embraced the pain. Sweat beaded on Its temple and welled under Its muzzle, Its body soon drenched as the small space grew unbearably warm. 

At 8,105, It had to bite Its tongue as the cramps spread throughout Its body: legs, arms, stomach, neck. Its eyes clenched shut as It held back any sound that would interrupt Master as he worked over It. 

More time passed with It nearly asleep. Its eyes slid closed without Its permission, at least. Maybe it was unconsciousness that beckoned, instead of sleep, but that mattered little to It. Though being unaware made keeping time that much more difficult. When It was positive at least five hours had passed, It was unable to keep quiet any longer. A strained whine crawled up Its throat, muffled by the muzzle, though It knew the sound was loud enough to catch Master’s attention.

Still, 3,957 more seconds passed before Master opened the lid. Cool air wafted across Its face. The light burned Its eyes, but at Master’s order, It pried them open to look at Its owner. Whimpers still crawled up Its throat, and Master’s face softened. 

“Feels good, hm?” he hummed, and It blinked slowly at him. So good. That was sweet pain It was so lucky to feel.

Master helped It out of Its hidey-hole and set to massaging out the cramps. Calloused fingers dug into Its legs and worked their way up to Its stomach and arms and then Its neck. Whimpers melted into groans as Its body soaked up the attention. It loved to be comforted, Its body aching when closeness like this was denied. 

“So good, thing. That was about six hours. I didn’t hear a sound until five hours had passed.” He carded his hand through Its hair, which had grown back after the last time Master had shorn the locks off. 

It was grateful. It had preferred longer hair for as long as It could remember. It had a feeling Master liked it that way, too, giving him another way to guide Its movements. 

“Is it ready for the surprise?”

It froze, rolling Its eyes to meet Master’s. _Please,_ It thought, hoping Master could read how ready It was. Master stood and walked to the door. He paused in the doorway and looked back to where It still laid on the floor. 

“Follow.”

Its legs still weren’t strong enough to stand, but crawling would not anger Its master, and so It dragged Itself behind him, reveling in his crooned praise as It moved. Master opened a door It had never gone through before, to reveal polished wooden stairs that led up. It cocked Its head as he turned to look down at It.

It was with careful movements that the man leaned down and gathered It in his arms. “Close its eyes.”

It complied, heart fluttering as Master carried It up the stairs. Warmth fell over Its body, and something gently caressed Its face.

“It may look.”

It opened Its eyes and lost Its breath. _Outside._ Master had taken It _outside._ That was the sun on Its skin and the breeze in Its hair. It could not remember the last time It had been _outside._

A pleased hum escaped It, and It froze in horror. What had It done? Master had given It a treat, and It had repaid him by making sound when It had not been told to! Slowly, It dragged Its eyes back to Master. 

Instead of being angry, however, the master seemed amused. “Beautiful today, no? It may answer.”

It nodded quickly and immediately returned Its gaze to the sky. There was a high fence that circled the rooftop where It and Master stood, limiting the view to white, fluffy clouds, a beautiful blue sky, and the bright, golden sun. It took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling truly happy and relaxed in a way It had not for ages.

Master sat down, It still cradled in his arms, and there they stayed until the sunset painted the sky.


	2. A Bad Day

The day before had been so beautiful. So stunning. It had seen the sky and felt the wind on Its face. It had even been granted an hour free of the muzzle, for which It was allowed to eat real food: a hamburger with a potato. The food had been delicious, and It had been unable to stop smiling, relishing the freedom granted It. All too soon, however, Master had decided they’d had a full day. The muzzle had returned, and It was taken back to the cell. 

The day had been a good one, and It had dreamed that night. Of the sky. Of a freedom from any care in the world and from the sweet agony Master visited upon It. 

This, however, was not a good day. This was a very bad day. It had not done anything wrong, and as Master put Its wrists in cuffs and pulled the chain to leave It stretched tall on Its toes, he even said as much.

“I had a business deal go wrong. Stupid, _stupid_ contacts who don’t check their information and cost me time and money!” 

Its ankles were secured to a heavy grate in the floor next. Master readjusted the chains until Its feet no longer touched the floor, Its body stretched taut. 

“It is a good thing I have my toy, is it not? It did no wrong, but it will relieve my anger.” A hand wrapped around Its throat and squeezed. It blinked slowly at him, and Master huffed. “I want to hear it today, thing.”

It shivered, excitement (dread) racing through Its body as Master undid the muzzle. 

“Speak.”

It wet Its lips, dry and chapped. Its voice, when It spoke, was hoarse. “Please. Please hurt It. It is here for you. You can do what you want to It. It welcomes the pain. It loves the pain. It _wants the pain.”_

Master smiled, his single eye crinkling. “That’s my toy.”

…

When Master finished, It was seeing colors and impressions instead of solid images. Master patted Its cheek, the touches getting harsher, his voice more insistent. There was something It was supposed to say, a tradition that Master had forced and that It had no problem continuing. So long as It could put words together in a way that made sense.

“Th...thank you. F...f...for doing this. Thank y-you.” There was more. It could tell Master was waiting, even if It couldn’t see him. “Can I-It have m-more?”

If It had more, It might not wake up for a long time. Like the last time Master had lost control. It had been out for a week, Master said, sleeping and healing. It would be honest—after this, It would not mind the break.

The touch on Its face gentled. “Not today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

Locks jangled, and It felt the muzzle be replaced. The straps dug harshly into Its head, and the feeling comforted It. That was normal now. It _liked_ the feel of it wrapped around Its face, liked how it kept It contained and easily controlled by Its master. 

It liked the way the muzzle limited Its words, too, which was a change to how It used to be. It had talked, all the time. Kind words, sarcastic words, angry, happy, teasing, loving words. 

It shuddered at the memory of what It had said to Master when he first took It in—harsh, angry insults that were meant to wound Master and defend It. But It did not deserve to be defended. It did not deserve to speak if It could not be thoughtful with Its words, either.

It had taken time and effort, but Master had been able to teach It the beauty of silence and meaningful looks.

Master puttered around, cleaning the tools he’d used on It and putting them away. It let Itself float, riding high on the agony flowing through Its body. Master left It hanging when he was finished, but It didn’t mind. It had stayed in these bonds for days before.

Alone, It closed Its eyes and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I’m a little nervous about this story, so your support is amazing. :)


	3. The Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for creepy Slade and an NG tube. Also, as I’m not a doctor, please take any medical stuff (there’s not much) with a grain of salt.

It woke up when It felt something touch Its back. _Master_. And judging by the soft, warm touches, he was going to care for the wounds. It braced itself for the antiseptic that stung and burned Its cuts, which Master followed with stitches and bandages where needed. Its nerves lit up as Master’s hands smoothed over Its back as he finished caring for It. It could not help the shiver that made the chains clink, truly enjoying the touch.

Master’s chuckle was deep and dark, sending another shiver down Its spine.

“It did not eat yet. Is it hungry?”

 _Yes,_ It thought, but It blinked Its eyes twice in the negative. Master nodded once in approval, and then he responded in a way that made Its eyes crinkle in happiness. 

“I know it may not feel hungry, but I would not be caring for my toy properly if I did not make sure it got some nutrients, at least.” 

Its master was so _kind._

It watched as Master held up the feeding tube, and It, while not liking the pressure as it was inserted into Its nose, hid Its dislike. It was going to be fed. It had no right to complain. It had no _need_ to complain.

The tube went in, tears filling Its eyes at the pressure, at the pain, and then the tube moved further down Its throat. Master unhooked the muzzle, but that would stay off for only a short time. Its nose always got stuffy for a little bit after the feeding tube was inserted. 

Sometimes It got full very quickly with the nutrients, and so Master fed It slowly, using small amounts until he was happy with how much It had ingested. 

“Very good,” Master hummed. “Very good.”

Its eyelids were heavy after the feeding, but It knew It needed to be awake as Master began to unhook It from the restraints. At the least, It needed to try and stand after being released, even if Its body was numb and tingling. Master hated laziness, and if It didn’t even try, then It would be hurt again. This time, however, guilt would be attached to the pain.

It hated feeling guilty.

Predictably, It fell, but It tried immediately to scramble upright. Master watched as Its legs gave out, as Its arms folded beneath Its weight. Master was smiling at It, so It knew It had done well. He leaned over to scoop It up, and It could not help but melt into the strong arms supporting Its body. 

Back in Its room, Master locked the choker collar in place and reattached the chains around Its wrists and ankles. It eyed the blanket that was just out of reach, and Master huffed as he stretched out a hand to grab the soft fleece. He tucked the blanket around It and let his hands linger on Its shoulders. 

It met the blue eye that stared, wondering what Master might want next. Sometimes when he lingered after It was restrained, he would watch It or spend time talking at It. It didn’t mind, even if It only wanted to fall asleep. It was there for Master to use as he needed, after all.

But Master simply leaned forward and brushed his lips across Its forehead. Its eyes immediately crinkled in happiness, breath catching in Its lungs. Lucky, lucky, It was so _lucky._

“Good night.” Master pushed to his feet and walked out of the room. 

Silent, restrained, aching with Its master’s anger, Its eyes creased again in a voiceless _good night._


End file.
